Captured
by 14tara14
Summary: "My name is Lavid, and you are?" "Bella…Bella Swan" I replied, turning my head away from him. There was nothing after that, just the click of the lock before the rooms only sound was the ever present dripping of water. It wasn't until a few days later that I discovered the purpose of my kidnapping, when Lavid entered my prison to tell me i had been sold.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: I do not own twilight; I'm just borrowing her characters.

Chapter one: kidnapped

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

It was the echo of water hitting water bouncing off the walls that first awoke me.

Drip…drip…drip

I couldn't see anything; my eyes were covered in a rough fabric secured firmly across my face. I tried to move, but that proved pointless as well. I was bound with my hands above my head with thick rope, my legs and feet also tightly wound and attached to something, but I wasn't sure what. It smelt bad here; the air was thick with the scent of damp mold and garbage.

Drip…drip…drip

My teeth clenched in agitation with the constant dripping sound. It was maddening. I tried to hear something else, anything else that would help me figure out where I was, but there was nothing but the sound of falling water. No creaks, no cars, absolutely fucking nothing. I was alone, completely alone.

I tried again to move, I tugged my arms to see if the rope would give, but it didn't budge, it only caused the rope to scrape my wrists painfully. I tried to remember how this happened but my mind was a pounding fog. I think I was drugged, or hit on the head…or both. It hurt too much to think, and my body felt heavy and cold. I must have been tired too, because it was only moments later that I fell asleep again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I don't know how much time past, could have been hours for all I knew, but when I woke up again I had been moved. I still couldn't see anything, my eyes were still covered, but the floor felt different. It wasn't just bare cement anymore; it felt like a lumpy mattress. The springs creaked loudly when I tried to move. My binds had been changed as well. My hands were now tied behind my back, and were attached to what was probably a pole of some kind, I tried tugging again.

Nothing.

I could still hear the dripping noise clearly, so I knew I was at least in the same room. My head felt clearer too, but still hurt like a bitch. I tried again to remember what had happened, but only got bits and pieces. I remembered going out to the bar with Alice, we had a few drinks, and we danced for a few hours. I remember a face too; with the most unusually colored eyes I had ever seen. Things went blurry again. I tried to remember more, but there was nothing. By now it was becoming clear to me what had happened and panic started to set in. my heart began to beat faster and my breath started to come in short choppy shudders.

I had been kidnapped.

How or why I did not know, but that was irrelevant as I was here, wherever here was…. I tried in vain to squeeze my hands out of the ropes holding them together but they were too tight. I could feel my skin breaking and start to bleed from the friction. I cursed aloud, wincing as the sound of my voice bounced around the room. I needed to get free. Now!

Without warning the sound of a lock being opened caught my attention and made me freeze, my blood chilled at the thought of my attacker approaching. The door opened, and then closed again moments later with a resounding click. I waited anxiously to see what would happen, but there was no sound, no indication of anyone being present in the room. My heart beat faster, and I couldn't take it anymore.

"Who are you" I demanded. My voice was raspy and weak, not at all how I wanted to sound. No reply. But there was a change; I could hear the footsteps of my captor moving closer to me, and then there breathing. They felt close. Too close.

"Who are you" I asked again, this time my voice was much clearer. Still my captor made no reply; instead I felt it as there hand brushed my hair away from my face. I jerked away from the contact, by his rough skin and size I could tell my captor was a man. He touched my hair again, softly stroking it while brushing it behind my ear.

I hated this feeling, the feeling of being completely and entirely at his mercy. I couldn't move any farther away, no matter how hard I tried. I wanted to scream and him to stop, but I held my tongue. I was in no position to do anything, so I wasn't about to aggravate him into something worse.

"You must be thirsty" his voice startled me. It wasn't at all what I had been expecting. It was smooth like liquid honey, and just as sweet. His tone was not harsh in the least, but soothing. He pulled his hand away from my face, and the next thing I felt was a cold glass being held to my lips.

"Drink," he said, gently nudging my lips open to accept the fluid. I opened my mouth hesitantly, ready to spit out anything that tasted at all strange, but it was just water. The moment it touched my lips I drank the contents of the glass greedily, not realizing how thirsty I truly was. The cold water settled in my stomach like a punch to the gut, I shivered from the cold.

"Why am I here?" I tried asking once the glass was emptied, not really expecting an answer.

"Because you were brought here" he answered, much to my surprise.

"But _why_?" I demanded "what have I done to deserve this? What reason do you have for taking me?"

"You will find that out soon enough" and just like that he was gone, the loud ringing of a lock being put back confirming his departure.

Fuck.

I cannot tell you how scared I was at that moment. I by nature hated uncertainly, especially surprises. I liked knowing I was in total control of my life, and the knowledge that I was completely without control and knowledge of anything around me, terrified me. I needed a plan, I needed to escape. But how could I escape if I couldn't even move! And to top it all off I was in a locked room who the fuck knows where!

"God damn it!" I swore, banging my head on the mattress. Knowing I couldn't do anything I decided to wait for my captor to reappear. Thankfully that didn't take long; it was only maybe an hour or so later that I heard the lock being opened and footsteps approaching. But this time it was accompanied with the sweet aroma of food. My mouth watered.

"I figured you would be hungry, so I brought you some soup" he said. "I am going to move you into a sitting position; I would appreciate it if you did not fight me"

"You could always just untie me" I countered, but never the less allowed him to move me so my back was against the wall and I was sitting on the mattress.

"I think we both know that is not going to happen, now open up"

"Could you at least takeoff the blind fold? I'm not a fan of this whole not seeing business" there was a moment of silence before he replied, his voice sounded rather exasperated

"If I remove the blindfold will you co-operate while I feed you?"

"That sounds fair" I agreed, more than eager to see what I was faced with. I tried not to cringe as I felt his hands on my face again, seeking and untying the knot that held the fabric together. Once he removed the blind fold I slowly opened my eyes, wincing from the light as they slowly adjusted to the change.

His face was the first thing I noticed. He looked Scottish, or maybe Irish, I couldn't tell which because his voice held no trace of an accent. He had dull red hair that had receded and thinned with age, I pegged him to be in his late forties early fifties. His eyes were a greyish blue and much like his appearance they seemed tired and weary. I was surprised to see how normal my captor looked. He didn't seem menacing, if anything his soothing tone matched his appearance exactly. He looked like he was someone's grandfather, the kind that would spoil his grandchildren rotten.

I hated him even more.

"Here, eat." He instructed, moving a spoonful of what looked to be tomato soup towards my mouth. Obediently I allowed him to feed me the soup, while casually looking around and taking note of my surroundings. The room was small, made entirely of cement. The dripping noise came from the far left corner of the room from a crack in the roof. Besides the mattress I was on there was no other furniture in the room except for the chair that the man was using. I couldn't see the door, not without craning my head to view behind my captor, and I didn't think that would be a wise decision.

"Finished looking?" he asked after a few minutes

"Where am I?" I tried asking again

"In a room, I would have thought that obvious" he replied sarcastically.

"Will you at least tell me your name?" I sighed exasperated. He raised an eyebrow at me, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"If you tell me yours I'll tell you mine" I tried again, hoping to get at least something. He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

"I must say, you are probably the most level headed and polite guest I have had the pleasure of handling thus far.

"Have there been many others?"

"You could say that" he agreed sadly "but none of them ever stay long, and I suspect neither will you"

"What do you mean?" I tried to keep the panic out of my voice "what are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing, my only job is to keep you healthy and unharmed for the duration of your stay."

"I don't understand"

"You will soon enough"

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"It is not my place. My only job is to make sure you are fed and taken care of, nothing more. That being said I must depart. I have other guests that require my attention." He stood up from his chair and reached for the blindfold, getting ready to tie it back on.

"Wait!" I pleaded, shrinking back as far as I could "please, can't you leave it off? Please?" he hesitated, seemingly unsure of what to do, but then shrugged and placed the cloth in his pocket

"Very well, but I should warn you, should you try anything, there will be consequences"

"Understood."

"Good." With that he moved the chair far enough away that I had no hope of reaching it, picked up the empty tray of food and went to leave. When he reached the door though he stopped and looked back, his expression was thoughtful and sad. I waited for him to close the door but he didn't, he just stood there staring before finally speaking.

"Lavid"

"What?" I asked, not understanding

"My name is Lavid, and you are?"

"Bella…Bella Swan" I replied, turning my head away from him. There was nothing after that, just the click of the lock before the rooms only sound was the ever present dripping of water.

It wasn't until a few days later that I discovered the purpose of my kidnapping, when Lavid entered my prison to tell me that my stay here had come to an end, and that I had been sold. That's when four strange men entered the room and inserted a needle into my arm. My last glimpse before everything went black was of his eyes, and then there was nothing.

**Authors note: ooooohhhh, I can't tell you were the inspiration for this came from but I just started to write and this is what happened. My updates for this story will not be very short sadly as this one will be purely from inspiration and time. but I will try to make a new chapter by the end of the month crosses fingers. Please tell me what you think? Good ? bad? Maybe where you think it will go or want to see happen. This story is totally open to suggestions. Cheers! **


	2. Chapter 2: Destination

**Authors note:** I'm sorry for such a long delay but I fell behind a bit on dates and had to write a term paper as well as my final exams. But now that those are finished I can hopefully get back on track! So here it is, chapter two, I hope you all enjoy and tell me what you think. And a shout out to all those that have reviewed all ready, your words inspire me to do my best.

Cheers!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own twilight, I'm simply barrowing her character, the plot however is all mine.

Chapter 2: Destination

The next time I awoke I was still tied with my hands behind my back and legs bound together. And low and behold, the blindfold was back.

My body ached with the strain of being constantly tied up with no reprieve. My wrists and ankles rubbed raw from the rope.

Immediately I noticed the difference in my surroundings. The floor, rather than the cement I had grown accustomed to, was made of rough wood and was moving, the rumbling and clicking sound a pretty dead giveaway as to where I was.

I was on a train.

Shit shit shit shit shit

This was bad; this was really, really bad. I tried to move. I wasn't tied to anything this time; instead I was awkwardly placed on my side. I tried to get up but the locomotion of the train threw me off balance, making it pretty much impossible. It gets worse though, turns out I wasn't alone, and my moving had alerted my captors to my conciseness.

"Quit movin bitch, or I'll have to come on over there en make'ya" a man chuckled. The sound of it made me still instantly, something about his tone made me sure that was the last thing I wanted to happen. His voice was rough and harsh, his chuckles more like a coughing cackle than anything else, not at all like Lavid's was.

"Smart girl" said another. This one sounded older then the first, but not by much. He had a deep baritone voice that was strait to the point, hardly any emotion present. Something told me he was the one to truly fear.

"oy, cant we have a little fun with em before we get there" asked the first man, cackles. "Not like any of em would notice the difference"

My blood went cold at his words. This couldn't be happening, this could not be happening!

"What do ya say," cackles continued. "I take the bitch over there and you get the little one, something tells me this one has some spirit in her just waitin to be broken."

"No!" the moment the word left my lips I regretted it. I had no means of stopping anything, I was tied and blindfolded, completely helpless.

"ya hear that? The bitch actually thinks she has a say in this" immediately I felt hands yanking me from the ground by my hair, I yelped from the shock.

"Don't touch me" I snarled. Blinding pain exploded across my face as his fist connected with my jaw, the faint taste of blood made me gag.

"Shut up whore!" even though I couldn't see it, I knew he was pulling back for another punch. My hands clenched and body stiffened with anticipation, but it never came. Instead I felt the pain of my hair being yanked from my skull, my body smashed to the ground as cackles hands were removed from my body.

"What are you doing? Let me go! The bitch had it comin!"

"Shut. Up." the force of those simple words was harsher then I thought possible. The effect was immediate. Cackles didn't say another word.

Nothing was said right away, all that could be heard was the clicking of the train and the blowing of its whistle. I wanted to shift into a more comfortable position, but I dared not move in fear it would draw their attention back to me. Finally, he spoke.

It wasn't human, the effect his voice provoked. I felt every hair on my body stand to attention at his tone. My skin crawled as if thousands of spiders were creeping across my flesh. It was fear; pure undeniable fear is what his voice produced, and all without breaking that emotionless husk.

"What is our job?" he asked. Nothing.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Everything was screaming danger. It made me wonder how chuckles felt, considering the direction of his partners hostility was directed at him. This time he spoke.

"t-t-to trans-port." He stuttered. His voice was nothing but thinned air. Gone was the bravado, the anger, and the control. All that remained was a freighted child.

"And how," the man continued, his tone darkening. "Are they to be delivered?" there was a small sense of hesitation in the room when cackles didn't answer, a small defiance, but enough to cause a reaction. I screamed in shock as I felt a large mass slam into the wall beside me, the train was too loud to hear more, but it sounded like struggling.

"How?" the man asked again. Its core was hard and unrelenting, it slashed through the air like a barbed whip tears through the flesh.

"Unharmed!" he wheezed, as if struggling for air.

"And what is this?" he asked while at the same time grabbing my chin and angling it towards them. His hands were rough as bark, containing a strength that left me helpless to move even an inch while under his hold. His thumb ran along the edge of my chin where I had been struck, smearing the blood as he went.

"Harm" cackles replied, his fear so thick I could taste it. My chin was released. Immediately I was inching as far back from them as my binds would allow, hoping to god they wouldn't notice enough to care.

"Harm" the man agreed. "You best hope that mark doesn't last more than a week, or it will be your ass on the line, not mine. Got it? Good. Now sit down and shut up. I don't want to hear your voice till we arrive."

A beat later I felt the same rough hands probing my chin, angling it this way and that to get a better view of the damage.

"Open" the voice instructed. I immediately complied, not wanting to invoke his furry. He probed at my teeth, I hissed in pain as he touched my lip, I could feel it was swollen and probably cut. Once he was satisfied with his inspection he released me. There was nothing after that. I could sense him as he got up and walked back to his original seat.

"You're not going to drug me?" I asked without thinking. Wishing I had just kept quiet.

"Do you want to be drugged? The voice asked. If he was surprised he didn't show it, he sounded bored.

"No"

"Then sit still and shut up"

"Can I ask a question?" I asked carefully

"No" he replied.

I didn't say anything after that. I shifted a bit so I was sitting with my back against the wall, angling my arms so I wasn't sitting on them. I drew my legs up to my chest and let my head fall back against the wall.

Click Clack Click Clack.

The constant rhythm of the trains movements and sound beat against my entire body, but it was soothing. It blocked out all other sounds, it helped me imagine I was alone, even though I knew I wasn't.

On the outside I remained firm and steady, but on the inside I was breaking. I could feel all the hope I had of getting out of here vanish in a whirlwind tornado of my despair.

I didn't know where I was or where I was going, I didn't even know how long I was gone. The only comfort I had was that for the time being my captor's orders were I was not to be harmed. It was a small comfort, but it was the only one I had.

For the rest of the trip I thought of my family. I thought of Renée and her smile. I remembered how every birthday she would get up early to bake me a cake. It would always be slanted, and slightly burnt under the clumpy icing. How she managed to make it taste like cardboard every year I would never understand. But the look on her face when I would take that first bite and smile made the pain of choking it down worth everything. It wasn't until after the fact that I knew I would probably never get to taste her cakes again that I realized how much I would miss them.

I thought of my father Charlie.

I remembered how when I was a little girl, he and I would wake up before the sun and pack our fishing gear. I recalled the feeling of absolute peace when sitting on that boat, the calm waters swaying gently, coaxed by the gentle breezes whispers. Dad would fish and I would watch the waves, hunting for any sign of movement below. When I grew tired of that I would drag my fingers along the surface of the lake. I loved the feeling of the waters silky dampness caress my fingers as I would think of everything and nothing. We never really talked much on these trips. Just being there spoke volumes enough for the both of us. Sadly I recalled how the older I became; the more I refused his invitations until I stopped going all together. There was nothing at this moment I wouldn't give to be on that lake with him right now.

I tried to keep them in, but I could feel the sting of tears collecting in my eyes. My throat and chest burned with the strain of trying to hold them back. I couldn't help but wonder what they were doing now. Were they searching for me? The thought of them printing out sheet after sheet of papers with the word MISSING in bold print cut me deeper than any knife ever could.

I wondered what Charlie would do…probably get the entire station involved in hunting me down. But how long would that last? Phoenix was a big place; there were always new crimes being committed and murderers to be prosecuted. I remembered how Charlie would say a cold case was like a dead body, the longer it sat in the ground, the more details would rot away until nothing remained. He always hated how that kind of stuff happened more often than not. He never forgot them though; every case he worked be it solved or not he would remember the faces of the victims.

It hurt him, especially the ones he couldn't save. The faces of the lost are not a light load to carry, but mom and I both knew it would hurt him more to let them go.

I wish I could remember what happened, if there was a chance that anyone saw anything.

More pain hit me when I thought of Alice. She must be feeling so guilty right now.

Alice and I were the best of friends, sisters really. I hope she doesn't blame herself. It wasn't her fault.

I must have fallen asleep with their faces in mind. Because before I knew it, I was brought back to reality with firm hands dragging me upwards. The train had stopped, I could hear the sounds of many people talking and walking. Loud bangs resonated around me as I heard people moving what sounded like heavy objects from off the train. Chuckles was swearing in protest a little was away, complaining about this not being in his job description.

"Walk," said the voice. I obeyed instantly, my feet unsteady in their direction, as I had no idea where I was walking too. I flinched as I felt his hand move to the centre of my back, but relaxed when all he did was begin to guide me. Once we had gotten out of the train he stopped me by firmly placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Stay" he ordered. His hand left my shoulder, and I felt it as he walked away. I didn't move though, I wasn't stupid; instead I listened to what was around me, trying to decipher what was happening.

All around me was the sound of people; I knew running would be hopeless. I was probably standing there for a few minutes before my captor finally returned, once again placing his hand on my back. I continued to walk at his nudge, tripping slightly as we left the outside and walked into a building, or I think it was a building. The ground felt like concrete and the sounds of people echoed from all around me. My heart pounded faster as I tried to calm my fears and failed.

"Resist, and there will be consequences". Before I could react I felt the blindfold being ripped away. After being in the dark for so long the florescent lights blinded me. My eyes throbbed in pain at the sodden change; I had to keep blinking before I could finally stand the light. What I saw made me wish they hadn't taken it off.

It was a warehouse. And I don't mean the crappy, slanted roof in a rank, run down shed warehouse, oh no. The place was a fucking fortress. Don't ask me how big it was because I wouldn't be able to tell you. The place was a maze of cement walls, staircases, and ramps. Giant iron shelves were along every wall holding crates of who knows what. And that wasn't even the worse part. It wasn't the sight of the boxes, or even the workers that froze my blood cold and left me speechless.

It was the pens.

To the right of the room was pen after pen of caged humans. Women, men, and children all locked behind solid steel bars. There was no doubt in my mind where I was anymore. I knew. I also knew all hope I had of ever seeing home again was gone.

I was in a slave market, a fucking underground slave market.

My legs locked up and I halted. I couldn't move. I didn't want to take another step forward. I wanted to run, to run as fast as I could, as far as I could away from this place. I knew logically I wouldn't get far. In fact, I doubt I would have even made it one step before being forcibly detained, but emotionally I didn't care.

Before my body and mind could agree on an action I felt the light guiding hand on my back turn to a forceful shove to keep me moving. I stumbled forward in horror. You would think the fear and realization of what was to happen would make me violent and defiant to my capers, but it did the opposite. The more the reality of my situation began to sink in the more my brain began to shut down from shock. Fear consumed me, and with that consumption came outward compliance and the inability to act. The images around me cluttered and clashed in my head, my brain refusing to accept what my eyes were showing. My blood felt cold as it pulsed threw my veins, my heart pounding relentlessly in my chest. Breathing became harder; it felt as if a hard weight had settled over my chest, restricting its movements.

I tried to calm myself; I knew panicking was not going to do anything good. I tried to take deep breaths but they wouldn't slow, my hands shook beyond my control.

Deeper and deeper we walked into the warehouse until we came to a desk with a middle-aged woman typing into a computer. Her hair was black and tightly wound in a bun on her head. She had high cheekbones and piercing black eyes. There was no warmth to this woman, but that wasn't a surprise looking at what she did. I felt an overwhelming depth of spite and disgust towards her, more so then with the men that had done this.

"Marcus" she spoke in acknowledgment, although she never turned her head to look at us. Her voice was just as pitiless as her eyes.

"Martha" Marcus, as I now know him, acknowledged back.

"And this is?" the woman asked, finally turning away from her screen to direct her gaze to me.

"Special order 34 A" the woman glanced back to her screen, her claw like fingers already typing away as Marcus spoke.

"The file says class A. What happened to its face? Records indicate no damage reported while under storage." her voice held no emotion when she asked this, but her eyes contained blunt mockery within their deplorable depths.

"She fell." Marcuse's tone left no room for argument.

"On its chin?" he didn't reply. Judging by her gaze they seemed to be staring each other down. Her eyes narrowed before turning back to the screen.

"So I see" was her final reply. "You can take it to hanger 2B on the east side."

She didn't spare us a second glance as we walked away. Marcus led me forward before taking a sharp right down a corridor that led to some spiral stairs. We descended down the concrete steps in complete silence. I tried to see what he looked like in my peripheral vision, but he was at the wrong angle and I was to scared to turn my head to look. The echo of our steps bounced off the walls. The stairs seemed to go on forever. The further down we walked the colder the air became. I shivered from the cold, still only wearing my low-rise jeans and halter from the club. Finally we reached the bottom and walked into an open room. My heart stopped.

If I thought upstairs was frightening, it was nothing compared to this.

The room was large; large enough to fit two or three jets comfortably spaced.

But it wasn't the size that had me inwardly screaming. It was the row after row of cages all stacked on top of one another that did it. It was worse than a prison.

These jails were constructed of pure iron cages, stacked like cargo boxes in eight rows three cages tall. Each cage looked about two meters high with a one-meter diameter for room. Some, and only some were empty; mostly the upper levels. There were cages that contained 3-4 men, others holding two. Some were of only women, others only children.

I could feel the trail of tears falling down my face, but everything else felt numb. I didn't even realize I was backing up until I felt Marcus grab my shoulder and begin to drag me forward. Finally, my brain woke up.

"Let go of me!" I screamed, immediately starting to fight his hold. "Get off me, let GO!"

I fought, I screamed, and I bit as hard as I could, but his hold never broke from my arms, and still we moved forward.

All around me the screams of the prisoners mixed together into a giant roar of anger and fear.

"Mother Fucker! When I get out of here I'm gunna nail your…"

"Please, please I want to go home, I HAVE CHILDREN! PLE-"

"MOMMY! I WANT MY MOMMY!"

"I don't belong here! Plea-"

Mine was only one more wave to the endless ocean of panic, and before I knew it I was locked up just like them.

I have no idea how long I screamed my frustrations into the air, but by the time I finished my throat was so raw I couldn't make another sound. Once I stopped screaming I sank to the ground and stared unseeing at the people around me. I couldn't feel anything. I didn't want to feel anything. So naturally, when the familiar fog of unconsciousness presented itself to me like a gift, I didn't hesitate to grab it.

It was the sound of my cage door being slammed shut that jerked me awake. I was curled in a ball in the corner farthest from the door; my head was pounding and my throat and mouth felt like sand paper. When I looked up I saw a woman eyeing me distastefully.

"Judging by that deer in a headlights expression I'm gonna go out on a limb and say your new here" was her first words to me.

"w-who are you" I whispered, my voice cracked and it truly sounded like my throat was made of sand.

"Names Victoria" she replied curtly before flicking her hair and moving to the farthest end of the cage to sit down. She did it so gracefully it was like a dance. She looked at me from her corner with disgust, her petite nose crinkled with a sneer.

"How long have you been down here? You smell awful, my god haven't they given you a bath yet?"

Her comment shocked me. Wasn't she a prisoner also? She had to be to be locked in here with me, yet she didn't act like it. I took another look at her and really looked. She had long and luscious red hair that was vibrant and fierce; her skin was smooth and porcelain white. She was wearing a fitted red dress that hugged her so tight it left nothing to the imagination. Her nails were filed and painted with a matching red polish that looked fresh. She was curvy and undeniable beautiful. The only sign present that indicated any mistreatment was a single small bruise on the base of her neck in the shape of fingers. When I looked back in her eyes I saw crimson anger as she regarded the cage with disdain. By that look I knew she was just like me, but different also.

I sat up to face her better, my body felt so stiff every movement caused my bones to crack and shriek at me in protest. I tried clearing my throat, but it hurt like a bitch; even swallowing was difficult, but I did it anyways. I had questions that needed answers, and it looked like she was the only one that could provide me them.

"Where am I?" I forced out, wincing from the pain. Victoria turned her head and regarded me before answering

"In a cage. Duh"

"You know what I mean" I shot back. She sighed loudly while rolling her eyes in frustration.

"Oh for fucks sake, fine! You're in a warehouse transfer facility where the main products, aka you and me, are held while being sold. Sorta like a shopping mall, only you're the new designer jeans. That clear enough for ya honey?" She muttered something else but I didn't catch it since she turned away.

"What does special order, class A mean?" I asked next, not really expecting an answer after that. The question though seemed to throw her off guard and she looked at me with narrowed eyes.

"Why do you ask?" she countered back suspiciously

"It's something I heard when my captor Marcus was talking to what looked like a secretary. She also mentioned I was class A and questioned the mark on my face." I explained, "but what does it mean?"

She didn't answer me right away. Instead she seemed to mull something over before finally answering.

"It means you being here is no accident. Special order is exactly what it sounds like. It means somewhere out there a client asked for a very specific flavor, and honey, you seem to be the one that fits that bill." Her tone was no longer sarcastic or bitter, but it was still as sharp as any blade. She took a deep breath before continuing. "Every single person here has a purpose, but not all are planned. Most of these people are here because they were either in the wrong place at the wrong time, knew the wrong people, or just plain fucked up something awful. You are different. Special orders are selectively chosen for clients that want something more specific. These can range from as specific as the types of movies you watch to the panties you wear. The fetishes are endless." She stopped talking. Her eyes glazed over as if recalling an old memory before coming back into focus. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, almost wistful.

"I was 11 years old when I was specially ordered by an elderly man of the name Lord Delingford. That year he had lost his niece and missed her so much that he would do anything to get her back, even go so far as to order a replacement. I played the role of his niece for almost 3 years before the old buzzer croaked and I was sent back here. Not long after returning I was resold to another house. The man had almost eight different slaves, and I became his favorite doll. He would dress me up in pretty dresses and act out balls in my favor. If I behaved and followed along I was treated like his little princess. If I disobeyed even the smalls of orders I became his dog until he deemed my transgression rectified. One of the slaves, Matilda, was his favorite whore. She saw what was going to happen the older I became and would try to prepare me for it." She laughed bitterly at this, her lips taking the form of a wolfish grin. "Oh how I hated her for it. I thought she was wrong. I thought I would forever be his doll, and when he died I would another odd mans doll that would want me to play another role. I thought as long as I did as I was told I would be fine. She knew what role I was being groomed to play the moment she saw me, and she did everything to prepare me for it. She taught me every trick she knew, and got the others to teach me the ones she didn't just so I would stand a chance."

"A chance at what?" I ask incredulous.

"Surviving" she replied. "I'll tell you the words she told me. If you want to survive in this world, if you want to live to see your next day then you must become desirable, interesting. You have to make them want you, because the moment they don't, your life ends. I know your young, and I know this aren't fair but sweet cheeks life isn't fair and we must play the hands we are dealt with as best we can. At the time I resented her for those words, but in time, they saved my life. Look at me" she said, facing me directly for the first time and opened her arms. "I look healthy right? Clean? Safe?"

All I could do was nod.

"Do you think just everyone gets the special treatment? No. I worked for this with everything that woman taught me, and if it wasn't for her teachings I would have been dead long ago. It is because of my desirability that the leaders here believe I will earn them more money so long as I'm kept happy. They feed me well, dress me, keep me away from the more violent clients and in return I give them my best performances."

"How can you say that?" I shrieked, "What happens when you get older, when your performances start to lack? You're a prisoner here just like everyone else and yet you sound completely fine! Don't you won't out? Why would you just give into them like that?" I demanded.

"Oh shut up," she shot back. "You don't know shit! I am well aware of my situation, but you know what? When considering what could be happening to me, who I could be sold off too, my life is pretty damn good at the moment. And sure I know when the time comes, and when I grow past my prime I will be sold off to the highest bidder. I know it's not much of a life, but it's the only one I got. So excuse me for enjoying the good gestures. Excuse me for grasping at every spoil I can wrap my hands around before it's gone! Because god knows I've deserved it for lasting this damn long! So FUCK YOU!" she was screaming now, her vivid eyes flashing with a firing heat that chilled me to my core.

"There is not a day that goes by that I don't wish I was back home! Not a night that I don't dream of what my life could have been if I was never chosen! I had a family that loved me. I had a mother, a father, and a little brother whom I know I will never see again!"

The silence that fell between us could have suffocated me it was so thick. The guilt that settled was even worse. I knew I had no right to question her, no right to judge, but I couldn't help it.

"How long?" I asked eventually, not being able to bear it any longer

"What?" she snapped back in confusion, eyes still blazing.

"How long has it been" I clarified softly. For a moment I thought she was just going to ignore me, but after a moment's pause she answered, although still clearly angry.

"I was kidnapped at age 11 in 2002. Do the math"

"You mean you don't know?" I asked even softer. The look she gave me would have sizzled my skin if it grew any hotter with its fury

"You'll find out eventually that the only state of time you have to worry about, is the time you have left. So no, I don't know how old I am, because I don't even know how long I've been gone." The bitterness was back, I deserved it.

"23" I said after a breath. "The year is 2014, so that means you're 23." Victoria seemed to role that number around in her head for a moment before she nodded.

"What about you" she asked. The question took me by surprise, as it was the first one she asked.

"Um, 17. I had just turned 17 when I was kidnapped." I replied hesitantly "my best friend Alice had snuck us into a club to celebrate it. I don't remember much, only that the next thing I knew I was tied and bound in some guy's basement before being brought here.

"You look older than 17" was her only comment

"My mom says the same thing," I told her sadly, "she said I was born 30 and just keep getting older every year." I hesitated with my next question, not sure how she would react to it but decided to ask anyways.

"What was your family like?" the response I received was not what I had expected. Instead of sarcasm like I had expected, Victoria gave me the most incredulous look before bursting out in laughter. It didn't last long though, before it dissolved into a sigh. She turned her head away from me and leaned against the bars, refusing to look at me.

"I don't remember."

Nothing was said after that. We just sat in silence and listened to the screams and tears of all those that surrounded us. I didn't know what to say to her. I don't know if there even was something that could be said to a confession like that. I couldn't imagine forgetting my family. The idea of not being able to remember who they were and what they looked like... was more frightening than anything.

Victoria and I sat there for a long while until I finally broke the silence.

"What do I do?" I didn't want to give in to this, but I also couldn't ignore the logic in Victoria's words. I wanted to survive long enough to get home again.

"That depends. Did you happen to overhear who you were being sold too?"

"No"

"Then there really isn't much you can do." She sighed. "Right now you're safe. You won't be harmed, and you will be taken care of until you're shipped off. Your Class A stamp will insure that much at least. I suggest you enjoy the peace while it lasts, because chances are it will be the last you get in a long time."

"What do you mean class A?"

"Class A is a class of being you are to be kept in by order of the buyer. Class A means pristine condition; no mental or physical damage is to be inflicted at any time. The class's fall all the way to F, each notch lowering the safety conditions while increasing the freedom anyone else has at getting away with breaking in the merchandise."

"I see"

"To be honest, your best bet is to hope you get someone that isn't into killing you, at least then you have a chance. You're being bought for sex, no question there, but if there is even a slight chance of making it more than sex I would suggest you take it."

"What?" I couldn't believe what she was telling me.

"Make them fall in love with you" she elaborated, "make them care for you, because the more they do the less pain you will have to deal with. You already have an advantage that you were chosen because you're what they specifically wanted. Use that advantage as best you can. "

"I could never love them." My voice was hard as steel. There was no way in hell I was going to do anything but loathe the one that had taken me away from my home.

"I never said you should" Victoria exploded in exasperation. "I'm not saying love them, by all means hate them till you're blue in the face, what I'm saying is you need to make them love _you_! Be whatever it is they want you to be, make them think of you as the perfect woman. That is your best bet at happiness."

"And what if that doesn't work?" I countered, "what if they are sadistic and cruel." She just looked at me blankly, as if the answer would be obvious.

"If your buyer is a sadist, then your only hope is to make them kill you faster…and try not to lose yourself in the process."

I fell asleep with those words rolling around in my head, and when I had next awoken I found myself alone once more. For the next few days I spent my time thinking about what Victoria had said, and I realized she was right. I would rather be damned to hell then let them get the better of me. I was going to fight back in every way that I could to get home...even if it meant giving in.

On my final day I was taken from my cell and fully made over. The weeks of dirt and grime collected during my imprisonment was washed away within hours. My brown hair was washed and conditioned to a honey glow, my pale skin moisturized until it was as soft as a cloud. Next were my nails and make-up, and lastly I was forced into a revealing midnight blue halter dress that only just covered my ass.

I didn't fight back as a group of men lead my through the compound, before arriving at a furnished lounge with a man waiting by the desk.

The man was about 5'5 in height and looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties. He had jet-black hair that was slicked back and fell to his shoulders, and skin so pale it looked translucent. It was his eyes though that caught my attention. His eyes were as black as death and just as cold. The moment he saw us enter a smile crept along his face like a slithering snake.

"Perfect" he exclaimed, his smile only growing bigger the more he looked at me. "Absolutely perfect! Gentlemen, you have outdone yourself this time for certain, such a lovely creature you have brought me!" The motion was so fast I almost missed it. One moment he had his arms spread wide, and the next he was handing an envelope to my captors just as they pushed me towards him. I felt his hands settled on my shoulders to steady me. I hated the way his touch lingered on my skin. I forced a smile.

"Most lovely indeed." He whispered while playing with a lock of my hair. "I must say Isabella; your name does you much justice. Your parents chose well." You have no idea how much I wanted to rip his throat out for those words. I had never been a violent person, but right then I wanted nothing more than to see his body wither in the hottest of flames hell had to offer. I did not show this though. Instead I used the flush of anger in my cheeks as a disguise for embarrassment, Victoria's words still echoing in my head. I forced out my sweetest voice, all the while fighting back the urge to spit in his face.

"That doesn't seem fair, you know my name but I don't know yours." The man's laughter was a mixture of delight and intrigue, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"How delightful! I can just see the fun you and I will have together my pet. But of course I must introduce myself, I am Aro. You, however, will refer to me as Master. For that is what I will be to you hence forth."


End file.
